


a delay most advantageous

by wordcatchers



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, F/F, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Married Couple, Professor Narcissa Black, Unspeakable Hermione Granger, Vaginal Fingering, oh and there's a little bit of rope involved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:41:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27056590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordcatchers/pseuds/wordcatchers
Summary: Hermione is at Hogwarts on business with the Department of Mysteries, though she is delayed and must stay overnight to start to see students the next day. All plans to stay alone in Hogsmeade are pleasantly ruined with her wife's early return to the school.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Narcissa Black Malfoy
Comments: 4
Kudos: 154





	a delay most advantageous

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Halloween, and/or blessed Samhain if that is what you observe. 🎃 🍂 Have a oneshot that incorporates a mask that is in no way related to a virus. Hope y'all are staying safe.

Four sixth year and three seventh year student files had sat on her desk for nearly three weeks now. She’d picked through each of them, bit by minuscule bit, finding that eventually, she _would_ have to give Harrows some credit for narrowing down the candidate list for her, because she'd simply been too swamped to do it herself. If even two or three of these students passed the examination periods after matriculating from Hogwarts, they’d have a massive success on their hands, considering their recent losses and troubles in finding new blood for the department.

Transfiguring the separate files into one conjoined scroll and shrinking it down so that it fit within a pocket of her outer robes, she finally threw on the dark blue hooded capelet over her blue-grey Unspeakable robes, fastening the capelet just to the left of her breastbone with the Ministry’s brooch. After tightening the laces of her knee-high boots, she exited her office, snapped her left hand towards the door to lock it with a charm she'd developed herself, and once she had summoned her wand from its sheath within the left sleeve of her robes, she apparated to the outer limits of Hogwarts’ grounds. So many damned delays today- she was _supposed_ to have been here several hours ago so that she could begin to speak with at least a few of the students before returning home, but Minerva had merely sent a return owl to say that she would wait up for her, so that _they_ could at least start to talk about the situation, even if she would need to come back the next day to see any of the students. She planned on staying overnight at The Three Broomsticks, perhaps enjoy a round of drinks with Madam Rosmerta before retiring to bed in a rented room.

With a diagonal and then spiral flourish from her wand, her Venetian-style half face mask, coloured a rich golden sunburst, materialised in front of her. Nodding in its direction, she welcomed the hum of its protective magic as it settled snugly on her face, curving against the contours of her nose. Barring her eyes, it covered most of the right side, leaving only the bottom portion of her features and part of the left side exposed to the cold November evening air. Raising her arms back, she grasped the hemline of her hood and tugged it over her head, only leaving her somewhat tamed bushy brown hair free to frame her face. She wasn’t sure if someone was supposed to meet her out here, so she tentatively brushed her hand and, simultaneously, her magic against the iron entrance gate, immediately feeling a rush of ancient magic responding warmly to a former Hogwarts student.

A minute or so passed by before the gate opened, and Hermione’s heart stuttered in her chest-

“I- I thought you were conducting business at Beauxbatons still?” she asked a bit breathlessly as she approached the witch, not entirely certain exactly _how_ much of her flush was due to the chilly air. The blonde standing just beyond the gate smirked and hooked one of Hermione's arms within her own as they started the walk up towards the magnificent castle they both had been students at during different decades.

“I was able to return an evening earlier than expected,” Narcissa informed, then halted them in their tracks, loosening her left arm from within Hermione’s right to come around and stand in front of the younger witch. Hermione tilted her head a tad to the left, watching slender fingers slowly make their way up to her half mask as if to take it off, but they stopped centimeters from their supposed destination to alter course and lightly run across the only bit of exposed cheek the mask allowed access to. Hermione leaned into the touch, brown eyes carefully following Narcissa’s blue, moonlight exposing the heat within them as the older woman softly admitted, "I've missed you so much."

The potions mistress drew closer to Hermione, tilting the younger witch’s face slightly upwards with the thumb of her free hand. “And… as gorgeous as you are in this uniform,” Narcissa murmured, her voice low and dangerously husky, “do allow me the pleasure of divesting you of it soon.” The sparse remaining distance between them disappeared, warmth beginning to pool between Hermione’s thighs, her mouth growing insanely dry, and with a slight angle of her head she met Narcissa’s lips- soft, aching, pure _need_ pulsing through her as the older witch wrapped her arms over Hermione’s shoulders. Hermione returned with her own arms around Narcissa’s waistline, though one strayed upwards, fingernails lightly scratching at the exposed nape of the blonde’s neck as her hair was tied into a loose bun, with few strands strategically loosened to frame her face.

Narcissa arched into her at the contact to one of her more sensitive spots, groaning into the kiss, giving Hermione a chance to properly nip down onto her lower lip, drawing the bit of flesh outwards, teasing with a light scrape of her teeth. She reveled in the way the other witch whined, warm breath hitting the sliver of exposed flesh beneath her mask between her nose and upper lip, but Narcissa wasn’t one to entirely hand the reins over to her. A leg rose between her own, and as a thigh came to lightly press up against her centre, Hermione knew she either needed to come back to herself or surrender to shagging out here on the open grounds of Hogwarts. Gods, it'd been too long.

“Merlin, Cissa,” she moaned, slowly extricating herself from the other woman, “I’m here on business, you’re aware?” Licking her lips, she watched and rolled her eyes at the faux ignorance painting Narcissa’s features for a moment.

An arm then wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her close until their foreheads rested against each other. As she shut her eyes, she heard Narcissa’s cool voice admit, “I am aware, my darling, though perhaps you might entertain adding one more matter of business into your schedule afterward?”

“And what might that 'matter of business' be?” Hermione teased, but truly answered with a quick pinch to Narcissa’s arse through the fabric of her grey and forest green teaching robes. The woman hissed in some mixture of slight pain and pleasure, inclining her head just enough to kiss and bite at Hermione’s exposed expanse of jawline. The older woman soothed her roughest bite with her tongue right after, then smoothly suggested- as if nothing had transpired between them! that they should make their way into the castle before the Headmistress used her privileges to apparate to their sides to see what was taking them so long.

Hermione hooked her arm in Narcissa’s this time around, and Narcissa applied a few heating charms to both of their bodies. Taking delight in the warmth of the spells and her wife’s body so close to hers, she gazed with fondness upon Hogwarts- something she once hadn’t been able to do in the years closely following the end of the Second Wizarding War. But that was over a decade past now, and though some demons still came out to play (albeit rarely as the years continued to pass), she had made much progress.

The doors to the Entrance Hall creaked open as they ascended the steps together. Hermione felt Narcissa’s arm remove itself from within hers, then the blonde's hand slid into her own, fingers twining with hers. The Headmistress was waiting just inside the doors for the both of them, and with a professional smile tinged with a familiarity she couldn't rid herself of, Hermione extended her free hand to shake Minerva McGonagall’s. She took in the castle that she had not set foot in for a few years now (barring the visits to _only_ her wife's quarters, connected to their home in London by the Floo Network), appreciating that it looked nearly the same now as it had when she had last properly visited the castle in 2006, Narcissa's first year as Potions professor and Head of Slytherin House after Slughorn had retired for the final time.

After reluctantly releasing Narcissa’s hand from within her own, the Headmistress gestured for both witches to follow her, catching Hermione up on how much (or rather, how little) the seven students selected knew of their prospects with the Department of Mysteries. Hermione itched to remove her departmental mask, but knew better as several students were still out and about before the ten o’clock curfew was put into place. It was not anywhere near common knowledge that Hermione Granger-Black worked in the Department of Mysteries- rather, her cover story was that of quite the prolific author of texts dealing with advanced wards and Arithmancy, which was as true as it was a cover.

Arguably, she was to keep the mask on at all times when conducting work outside of the department proper, but as both Narcissa and Minerva knew who she was (two of the few people who did), _and_ the Headmistress’s quarters were locked and thoroughly warded (some of which she had crafted herself), she allowed herself to remove it and set it on a side table once she and the other two women were seated. Narcissa sat next to her on the tartan green sofa, while Minerva elected to rest in a plush, yet clearly aged Gryffindor red wingback chair.

“While I have your... _full_ attention, Hermione,” her former Transfiguration professor said, pointedly flitting her emerald eyes down to the pale hand that rested on the younger witch’s thigh- Narcissa swiftly withdrew her hand, and Hermione allowed herself one glance, her lips twitching, wanting to smirk as she catalogued the bashful flush appearing on the blonde’s cheeks. She turned her attention back to the Headmistress, folding her hands upon her lap as she crossed her legs. “As I was saying, while we made our way here,” Minerva continued, “we will have owls sent to these students tomorrow during breakfast. They were meant to arrive during the students' lunch period today, but upon hearing of your delay we decided it best to not leave these seven in suspense for too long.”

Hermione couldn’t help but chuckle. “My _most sincere_ apologies to the memory of Professor Dumbledore, but these students are fortunate to have you as Headmistress, Minerva.” A knowing look passed across the Headmistress’s eyes before she resumed.

“And Narcissa,” Minerva turned her attention to the potions mistress, Hermione easily following, finely taking in how her wife had loosed her silky hair from its bun. It was an arduous test of her willpower to still her hand from reaching out and letting her fingers roam through the blonde locks. “As you are well aware, four of these students are from Slytherin House, and as their Head of House, we will utilise your office to speak with them. They are among the most promising candidates for the Department of Mysteries.”

Her wife smiled fully, resting her chin in one of her hands as her elbow leaned against her thigh. “Such a compliment from a bastion of Gryffindor House; you have my eternal appreciation, Minerva.” The Headmistress raised a brow and slightly quirked one side of her lip, but nodded in response. Hermione leaned back in her seat, uncrossing her legs as she stretched her arms above her, then turned her gaze back to Narcissa, eyes slightly widening at the darkened pupils that might soon threaten to overshadow pale blue irises. Imperceptibly, she swallowed and averted her eyes, only listening as Narcissa cleared her throat and smoothly continued, assuring, “My Slytherins are always welcome in my office, as you know, Headmistress. While it may only be my third year as their Head of House, I have built a rapport with my students, and I strive to make them all comfortable within my presence.”

“And what of the students from other Houses?” Hermione playfully prodded the older witch, sneaking a glance at Narcissa as she finished. Narcissa simpered at her, and if they were alone, oh- she knew she’d be in for it for such “insubordination.” As it stood, they were in the presence of the one and only Minerva McGonagall, so Narcissa seemed to settle on answering fairly, assuring again that she did everything within her power to make students of _all_ Houses comfortable around her, whether in or out of her class.

After several more minutes of deliberation, as well as gaining Minerva's approval for Hermione to stay the night in Narcissa's quarters (though she was known to break rules at _times_ , she had always written Minerva in advance when she planned to Floo into the castle and was _not_ about to break that trust), the married couple said their farewell to the Headmistress, plans in place to begin meeting with the Slytherins during the next afternoon and evening. Afterward, Hermione would meet with the Hufflepuff student alongside Professor Haywood, the Gryffindor with Professor Longbottom, and the Ravenclaw with Professor Delacour-Weasley. The mask- as it stood with her presence again in the corridors of the castle- was placed back onto her face, magically secured with a charm impervious to _finite incantatem_ , though by now all students save for select prefects and the Head Boy and Girl were in their dormitories.

With another slight _muffliato_ cast around them, Narcissa remarked, “It's a shame that a few of the older guard within the DoM have passed, but I will admit that I am proud of my snakes for proving themselves as potential assets to the department before even finishing their N.E.W.T.s.” Hermione dipped her head forward in agreement, congratulating her on such fine pupils within her House, “though,” she admitted with some measure of chagrin, “I was hoping for more than one Gryffindor to prove themselves.”

“Perhaps next year, my love,” Narcissa replied soothingly, reaching around Hermione’s back to rub a comforting hand against the fabric of her sleeve as they descended into the dungeons. They separated at the sound of a Slytherin prefect walking in the direction of the House common room entrance. Narcissa paused for a moment, speaking in hushed tones with her student, patting the girl on one of her shoulders before sending her off to her destination.

“Change of shifts?” Hermione questioned as they started to walk towards Narcissa’s quarters again. Narcissa answered with an affirmative hum, then as they rounded the last corner that led straight to the Slytherin Head of House’s residence, a hand snaked its way around Hermione’s upper arm and took control of her body, pushing her softly against the cold, damp dungeon stone. Shivering from contact with the stone and from Narcissa’s heady stare directed right at her eyes, Hermione swallowed hard before Narcissa leaned forward, claiming her mouth with possessive hunger.

“You…” Narcissa mumbled against her mouth, “your delay in arrival has proved most advantageous…” -the blonde leaned back for a moment, running her tongue over her lips- “I shall delight in having you in _my_ quarters, my darling. So much closer and intimate than your original Three Broomsticks plan.” And with that, Narcissa’s lips crashed back into hers, while one of her hands roughly ran through her brown hair after tugging the hood off, the other busying itself by grasping at her arse.

Groaning, Hermione’s knees threatened to buckle at the contact after all of those bloody _looks_ in Minerva's quarters, all while Narcissa now deftly worked her mouth open. A familiar tongue ran across her own, probing before her wife bit down on her lip, almost hard enough to draw blood. Hermione whined, then took Narcissa in her arms and pulled their bodies completly flush to each other, lifting her leg to tease at Narcissa’s clothed centre with her thigh, getting her back for earlier. Narcissa lost control of the situation with a low moan, leaving Hermione with an opening to switch their positioning. In the flames scattered amongst torches lining the dungeon corridor, she saw how darkened Narcissa’s eyes had become, and with one teasing, closed-mouth kiss, she tugged on her wife’s wrist, leading her into her own quarters.

“Get this bloody annoyance of a mask off your face,” were the first words out of Narcissa Black-Granger’s mouth as soon as the door to her quarters was shut and locked behind them. Hermione smirked at her wife and teased, “How about you do it yourself, Cissa?” Oh, _oh_ , she’d done it now, hadn’t she? Backing up with hands raised in mock surrender, Hermione tried aiming for hasty, successful retreat to the bedroom, but her lower back quickly collided with the back of Narcissa’s sofa as her wife stormed forward, one hand taking possession of her shoulder while the other reached up and attempted with all of her might to remove said annoyance from Hermione’s face, growling as she was frustratingly unsuccessful.

With a sly grin, Hermione waved a lazy hand over the mask, and it easily slipped into Narcissa’s hold. “How many times are you going to forget that it’s _charmed_ to stay on until I remove it myself? Protections, you know.” Narcissa merely growled again under her breath, muttering something about “protections be _damned_ right now,” before dropping the mask onto the sofa and peppering kisses all over the expanse of skin that had been “so rudely hidden” from her designs before. Hermione could only melt into the other woman’s affections. By Godric did she utterly love and adore her beautiful, intelligent, and clever as _hell_ wife.

Though as clever and intelligent as Narcissa was, Hermione knew her wife was getting lost in her passions, and while _she_ still had at least some of her wits about her, Hermione moved her hand lower… lower… until she could roughly grasp Narcissa’s rear, then at the other woman’s sharp gasp, she nipped at Narcissa’s delectably pink lip, all while trailing her hand around the blonde’s hip until she palmed her way down to cup at Narcissa’s still regrettably covered sex.

Her wife rolled her hips into her palm, instinctively seeking friction, and Hermione grinned into their kiss before mumbling out, “We should… bedroom…” Narcissa removed her lips from the younger woman's, lowering her head to a rest against Hermione’s shoulder in response, and then the two worked their way into the Head of House’s bedroom, the older witch taking only an instant to lock, ward, and silence the room before they began to strip each other of their now all-too-constricting, too warm clothing. Hermione was unclasping Narcissa’s teaching robes as Narcissa flung the Ministry brooch from Hermione’s capelet, then quickly discarded the dark capelet as well before leaning back, surveying all the clothes they _still_ needed to shed- then with a thoroughly exasperated noise, the blonde simply flourished her wand and stripped Hermione of her clothes with her magic... save for her bra and knickers, both decorated with black lace.

With raised brows, Narcissa glanced back up at Hermione eyes and quietly praised, “Lovely decision, my dear- did you-”

“Yes!” Hermione exclaimed with a laugh, "Just in case you somehow _were_ here and I was able to stay," then studied her wife intently and stated, “You are _too_ entirely covered up, Cissa. Allow me to rectify that.” Another moment passed and Narcissa was in a similar state of undress. Hermione hummed appreciatively at the delicate blue lace covering her wife’s breasts and the apex of her legs, commenting that _she_ also seemed as if she had prepared ahead of time, to which Narcissa would neither confirm or deny.

Hermione walked right up to her, murmuring, “Typical Slytherin,” before making better use of her mouth by kissing her way up the older woman’s neck, stopping ever few moments to suck on patches of skin, applying more pressure on the witch’s sensitive tendon, reveling in Narcissa’s needy whimpers and breathy admissions of desire. For her part, the blonde was scratching at Hermione’s back, eliciting sharp moans from the younger woman as nails on Narcissa's non-dominant hand raked across her skin, then worked her way to clumsily undoing Hermione’s bra, exposing breasts and taut nipples to the slight chill of dungeon quarters.

Not wanting to be outpaced by Narcissa, Hermione wandlessly removed the lacy blue bra from her wife, then parted their bodies _just_ enough to roll Narcissa’s hardened nipple with her thumb while her mouth busied itself along Narcissa's jawline, until-

“B-bed! Bed, Hermione- Salazar’s…” Narcissa panted, head lolled back as she continued with a hiss, “Salazar’s _snakes_ , you will be the end of me, my darling,” but her tone was full of bliss as they both collapsed onto the made-up mattress, their wands laid upon a bedside table. Hermione smiled at the sight below her as she moved to half-straddle Narcissa, leaning down to press a slow kiss to her wife’s lips. Heat and arousal had long since pooled between her legs, and Hermione shut her eyes as she moved slightly and lowered herself to rest on her wife's thigh, feeling her own wetness seeping through scant fabric onto Narcissa, languidly rocking her hips into the other witch’s pale skin.

Narcissa exhaled softly, half-lidded eyes taking Hermione in, and while _sometimes_ she enjoyed making Narcissa wait and put off her own pleasure to engage in voyeurism while Hermione brought herself to climax… Tonight, well, it had been nearly a month since they had last had the chance to be with each other like this due to her work and Narcissa’s business at Beauxbatons. Slowing her own movements to a stop, Hermione leaned forward, eyeing Narcissa before lowering her head to one of her wife’s pert nipples, flicking the tip of her tongue over it. A cry of pleasure escaped the blonde as she simultaneously jerked her hips. Hermione used a free hand to trail teasingly light pressure around the other nipple while her tongue continued to work the one she had started on before she changed approach and grazed teeth over the sensitive flesh.

Narcissa’s cries always had such an effect on her, knowing _she_ was the one rendering the blonde witch into such a desperate state, and Hermione leaned back up, her clothed, sodden core moving against the older witch’s lower hip, rubbing herself through fabric until Narcissa reached for her with one of her hands, easily removing the black knickers with a bit of wandless magic.

"Lay on your side for me, darling," Narcissa instructed, and Hermione- ever the willing student, rested just so next to her wife. She pressed a few kisses to Narcissa's shoulder, then with a small shift of the mattress Narcissa turned on her side as well, raising herself up just enough to rest her cheek on a loose fist, simply admiring Hermione for what felt like too, _too_ long. Oh fuck, she was turning the game around on her, wasn't she? And so easily, too, in spite of her earlier reactions to Hermione's touches. She wondered if her wife had masturbated and gotten release not too long ago, because- because, well, Hermione _hadn't_ in probably three days or more due to work simply wearing her out, and shit- she _needed_ pressure, needed her own release.

“Narcissa,” Hermione exhaled as her thighs tensed, reaching for her own sex, then gave a sharp gasp as her wife _pinned and immobilised_ her wrists behind her with mere flicks from her fingers! She huffed, blowing some of her bushy locks out of her face, when finally she felt those same fingers ghost down the valley between her breasts, over her stomach, then reached the summit of her folds with one hand, slowly trailing a finger through while her other still supported her head as she gazed at Hermione with a mixture of fondness and heated desire. Hermione cried out as Narcissa suddenly focused on her clit, pushing her hips forward to allow for better access. Narcissa tutted and in an instant, Hermione’s hands were free, but she was immediately pushed onto her back, pupils blown wide as she blinked up at her wife.

Oh, that wolfish smile on Narcissa’s face was Hermione’s _complete_ undoing. Narcissa grabbed her hands, positioning them over her head before wandlessly conjuring ropes to tie her wrists. She let out a soft breath, rope fibres prickling at her skin as Narcissa moved down her body, one hand going again for Hermione’s wet core, murmuring, “you're absolute _dripping_ , darling- all this for me?” while the other kneaded at the younger witch’s sensitive hipbone. Shuddering in pleasure, Hermione rolled her hips as Narcissa ran her thumb around her clit in teasing, slow circles.

“Cissa!” she cried out, hips jerking again as her wife shifted approach and pressed hard on her bundle of nerves before removing her hand entirely, “Please!” She whimpered at the sudden loss of contact, eyes flickering down at the blue ones looking up at her, coy smile tugging at Narcissa’s lips. She couldn't even attempt to touch _herself_ , considering her bound hands. Gods, she _needed_ her, needed her to _keep going._

“Hm, my love? Please what?”

Oh _fuck_ , she was going to make her wife _pay_. Maybe not tonight, but... She knew _exactly_ what Hermione needed, had purposefully kept her from touching herself to build her own arousal further, but she was- all the possible gods above and then some, she was being intentionally obtuse! Whining rather pathetically and not even _caring_ how it sounded, Hermione acquiesced and said, wanton need ever present in her quavering tone, “P-please, need you _in_ me, Cissa.” The older witch’s name was drawn out in a pathetic whine, and she saw as- if even _possible_ \- Narcissa’s eyes grew even darker with desire.

“Since you asked so nicely, like such the _good girl_ you are, my darling…” Narcissa purred, then- with her thumb now working into a maddening rhythm at Hermione’s swollen clit- took her index finger and slowly ran the length of slick inner folds, taking another long moment to pull her entire hand away and taste the younger woman. Hermione moaned at the, _again_ , loss of contact, and hips surged forward, seeking the pressure she so desperately desired. And that they found in another instant as a now thoroughly lubricated finger penetrated her still rather tight entrance. A soft cry, and soon one finger was joined by another, thrusting gently, barely brushing against the spongy tissue that drove her senses absolutely mad. Hermione’s thighs trembled slightly, and it was then that on top of the pressure inside of her, she gasped, swearing at the new sensation- Narcissa’s _tongue_ rolling around her clit, applying pressure in not only one but two places, inside _and_ out, and then with- _finally_ \- an increased pace inside of her, thrusting properly, stretching and filling her with not two but three fingers, Hermione surrendered to the edge, casting off. She cried out her wife's name, orgasm coursing through her, clenching hard around Narcissa’s fingers as her hips bucked, toes curled and now released hands found their way into the blonde’s soft hair, tugging at the locks with her fingers as she rode her release out.

Her wife lifted her head slightly after she fully came back down, a thoroughly satisfied smirk on her face. With a roll of her eyes, Hermione sat up, reaching to take hold of Narcissa’s shoulders. When she had the other woman in her grasp, she clicked her tongue with a slow shake of her head and rolled them over, urging Narcissa to lay her head back on- yes, two pillows, one moving to rest against the other, propping the older woman’s head up in a comfortable position. With a smirk of her own, Hermione helped Narcissa shimmy out of her wet knickers, secretly pleased that her wife didn’t simply resort to magically removing her own underthings. Magic wasn't needed for _everything_ , though it certainly had its advantages.

Hermione took a long moment to simply cup and appreciate the glistening folds before her, smiling up at the other woman, murmuring, “so, _so_ wet, Cissa,” before stroking Narcissa's sex and moving her hand away, trailing a finger down from her wife’s navel, through trimmed blonde hair, and finally down to her slickness again. Lazily, Hermione ran her left index and middle fingers down the woman’s outer folds, delighting in the soft cries that emitted from between Narcissa’s lips. Narcissa shuddered above her, hips rocking into her as she teased at her own nipple, and she hummed as she raked the pad of her finger over the top of her wife’s slit until Narcissa grabbed hold and tugged at the ends of her brown hair with her free hand, gasping as she cried out, “Hermione! Love, _please_.”

Grinning through a slight wince, Hermione almost asked her to do the same and _use her words_ , but her previous resolve crumbled as she really, _really_ just wanted to see and more importantly, _feel_ , her wife’s inner folds, to be _inside_ her, and so she let Narcissa get away with the non-descriptive _please_ this time. After all, they had tomorrow night as well, and so many more to come. She nudged the inside of Narcissa's thighs with her own, watching as her wife responded by eagerly spreading her legs further, outer folds parting. Hermione's fingers gathered arousal from Narcissa and the older witch exhaled sharply, letting go of her hair to bring a hand over her mouth as Hermione re-situated herself, bringing her lips down to latch around the woman’s clit, sucking gently as her left index finger traced the edge of Narcissa’s thoroughly sodden core, easily gathering more slickness. At another jerk of Narcissa’s hips against her, Hermione released her lips from the small bundle of nerves and rested her left thumb against an edge of the swollen clit while her finger slowly slid into her wife’s entrance.

Inner walls immediately clenched around the newfound pressure, and Hermione moved herself upwards, just enough to press tender kisses over Narcissa’s stomach and ribs where a few magic-inflicted scars discoloured pale skin. The older woman shivered through her low moans, and she shoved herself up even more, though her left hand stayed low, dipping in and out of the other woman’s entrance. “Move your hand, Cissa,” she whispered, her voice husky, and she inclined her head to lay a kiss to Narcissa’s lips, swallowing a groan from the older woman as Hermione’s thumb applied rhythmic pressure to her clit while her right hand rested against the side of Narcissa’s head, stroking through her blonde locks like she'd wanted to do earlier.

A second finger, now dripping in arousal from delighting in Narcissa’s slick, entered alongside the first, setting an agonizing pace for the witch, but Hermione stole away every cry of pleasure with her mouth passionately moving against Narcissa’s. When she broke away for air, Narcissa’s darkened eyes caught her gaze just as a third finger stretched the blonde open more, traveling deeper inside as inner walls fluttered around her thrusts. God, the _sounds_ that came from her fingers fucking her wife's heated, wet sex- Narcissa was panting, soft cries of Hermione’s name, mixed in with _“please,” “fuck,”_ and _“oh Merlin,”_ and the younger witch pressed onward, driving Narcissa up to and over the edge with an almost wild abandon.

“Oh- oh- _Hermione_!” Narcissa cried out as Hermione felt the woman clench hard around her fingers, contracting as she came. Wetness spilled out of the woman, coating Hermione’s fingers and part of her palm as she continued thrusting, working her through her orgasm. Still running fingers through the blonde’s hair, they met each other for another kiss as Narcissa came back down. Finally, as Narcissa’s inner walls relaxed again, Hermione slowly slid her fingers out, rubbing her palm once more over Narcissa’s mound before taking three fingers into her mouth, tasting her wife.

Pulling her fingers out after swirling her tongue around them, she smiled down at Narcissa, and laying down at her side again, she moved forward and placed another kiss to her wife’s lips, letting her taste herself as their tongues met. After, she draped an arm around Narcissa’s naked mid-section, and hardly even felt the sheets disappear from beneath them only to have them replaced with fresh ones. She _did_ feel a couple of blankets rest atop their nude forms- complete with slight heating charms that would activate when needed, but sleep took her soon after, her head resting just above one of Narcissa’s breasts as her wife ran slightly calloused fingers through now _thoroughly_ untamed bushy brown hair. A delay most advantageous, indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> writing "her wife" > Literally Everything™️


End file.
